Circle of Flames
by blackandwhitedesire
Summary: AU. Post GoF. With the return of Voldemort War is descending upon the Wizarding World for the second time. It is the destiny of Harry Potter to defeat the Dark Lord, but with supposed allies manipulating him, Harry must decide his own fate. With the help of his godfather, some surprising friends, and Ginny Weasley, Harry must accept his birthright, and become the true Potter heir.
1. Prologue: Of Changes to Come

**Welcome to Circle of Flames! This is an AU story taking place during the end of the Goblet of Fire, and straying into the Alternate Universe from the get-go. There will be no intentional character bashing in this story, however it will portray certain characters in a manipulative, damaging light, while placing the light on certain character flaws, so if you don't like seeing Albus Dumbledore in any other way than the pinacle of light and goodness, this probably won't be your cup of tea. I currently have no beta, so I apologize for any mistakes you might find. I am American, and while I will attempt not to let that bleed through my writing, you're more than likely to find words lacking an extra letter. I apologize for that, however I have been spelling 'color' without a 'u' since pre-kindergarten, so -shrug- habits die hard.**

**Disclaimer: I hold no claim over any character, plot, creature, or anything else you might recognize. I have manufactured certain events within J.K. Rowling's fictional world for pure entertainment, and am receiving no profit from this story. Nothing you recognize belongs to me.**

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Harry stared at the ceiling above him, not wanting to think. Unfortunately that was all he could do at the moment. Had it really been only twenty-four hours ago that Harry was on top of the world, tied for the lead in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the cup in his eyesight, eternal glory in his grasp. Now the world was falling to pieces around him, and certain people were insisting on acting like nothing was wrong. Of course, Minister Fudge was obviously the main concern at the moment, but Harry couldn't help but harbor some resentment for Headmaster Dumbledore as well.

He wasn't quite sure where this frustration had stemmed from, however he was fairly sure it began the moment Dumbledore had told him he would be forced to return to the Dursley's yet again. After everything he had experienced over the past few years, it still was not enough, he had still not proved himself to the old man. He had screwed up, he had let Cedric die, and now he was being punished for it.

Absentmindedly stroking Padfoot's black fur, Harry found himself speaking to his godfather, taking comfrot in the fact that he knew Sirius couldn't answer back in this form. He could just speak his mind and not fear the blank or condescending looks he typically received from Ron and Hermione respectively.

"Why do I screw everything up Padfoot?" His godfather's head rose slightly from his position on Harry's stomach as Harry spoke directly to him. "Everything I try to do falls apart. I didn't want Cedric to die. I didn't want this to happen, but it was me who told Cedric to take the cup with me. Cedric didn't want to, he wanted me to just take the damn thing. Why did this have to happen? It's my fault he's dead. Maybe Dumbledore is right. Maybe it's best I go back to the Dursley's. I deserve them. I can't even spend time with the Weasley's without ruining things for them. Everyone around me is in danger, aren't they? I'm damaged Sirius, damaged goods. Dumbledore is just trying to spare my feelings."

By this point Harry was so deep inside his own dark thoughts and self loathing that he didn't even realize how Sirius was bristling and growling at his side. Tears were streaming down Harry's face by this point, but Harry took no notice, simply burying his face into his pillow and drifting off into a disturbing nightmare filled with cold high pitched laughs, and piercing blue eyes that declared they knew best for him.

Sirius, for his part was furious. His body was trembling with rage as his godson drifted off to sleep. He had gotten a glimpse into Harry's thoughts, and he did not like the way the boy thought. He seemed to have been raised to think that he was always the one to blame, and that he should simply serve as a scapegoat to the wizarding world, a notion that Fudge seemed to have reinforced this evening, so short a time after Harry had been through such a great ordeal.

Try though he might to deny it, Fudge would eventually be faced with the fact that Voldemort had risen from the ashes, and was intent on spreading havoc throughout the Wizarding World once again. And Sirius' fourteen year old godson had dueled the Dark Lord and _won._ Harry Potter was becoming a man, one that both his parents would be extremely proud of. However Sirius was concerned for what his godson was lacking, and it honestly seemed to be a lot.

Harry seemed to have no knowledge of who he truly was as the Potter heir. He didn't seem to know about any of the old customs, or even of their existence. Sirius had been shocked to discover that Harry had enrolled in _Divination_ of all subjects, and had no guidance otherwise. Rita Skeeter had been allowed to run her mouth about the private, personal life of a Noble Lord, underage or not, and had faced no retribution. In fact her articles had sold even better, not only because of Harry's reputation as 'The Boy Who Lived', but because he was a Noble Lord, who's lives were so often kept private.

The Azkaban escapee bowed his head in shame. He knew if James and Lily were here, they would be devastated. His happy-go-lucky best friend would be enraged, his face stony as he dealt with the repercussions of what had befallen his son. Lily would have sobbed, knowing that her son could not even be left alone to enjoy his life, without nosy reporters butting in and providing their input. Sirius had failed his deceased friends, and he had failed their son in more ways than one. His recklessness had landed him in Azkaban for twelve years, unable to care for Harry as he should have. However everything would change now. Never again would he let Harry be mistreated like he had been.

_Dumbledore. _

Sirius growled just thinking of the old man. The Hogwarts Headmaster professed to have Harry's best interests at heart, but nothing he had done thus far had proved that. Sirius didn't buy into any of the crap Crouch had spouted about Harry being forced to participate in the Tournament by way of a binding magical contract. Harry was not yet of age, therefore his legal guardian would have had to consent to his participation. As Harry Potter's legal magical guardian, Dumbledore must have agreed, knowing that it would endanger Harry, knowing that someone was looking to kill him.

A lot of things were not adding up in Sirius' head. Dumbledore had known Alastor Moody for years, yet he had not had suspicions about who was teaching his students until tonight? Not even when the paranoid retired Auror had asked to personally place the Tri-Wizard Cup in the center of the maze. That sounded out of character to Sirius, who had been personally trained by the man after leaving Hogwarts. And then there was the fact that no one had noticed Crouch Jr. cast an Imperius curse on the Durmstrang Champion? The variables were not arranging themselves into an equation in Sirius' mind, however the one constant seemed to be Albus Dumbledore, who never wanted others to know what he did. He liked to have all the cards in his hand, and his hand alone, and much to Sirius' anger, Harry was always his ace in a hole.

Unable to simply sit there any longer, Sirius transformed back into his human self, and began pacing the length of Harry's bed. Things needed to change, and they had to do so quickly. The Second Wizarding War was looming upon them, and Voldemort's rebirth had been the shot heard round the world. However it seemed as thought the Minister of Magic would do his best to ensure that it was heard by as few people as possible. Sirius was sure that if he were proved innocent, his influence in Wizarding Society, combined with Harry's would be able to stop that tirade in its tracks. Of course, that was assuming that Sirius even was proved innocent, which was a different battle entirely to fight.

Of course that left Sirius with another problem, concerning Harry's care. No matter what Dumbledore said, returning to the Dursley's was not an option for his godson. Sirius refused to allow it. The Headmaster had never cared to reveal why it was of utmost importance, but Sirius had deduced that it had something to do with blood wards. However he knew the wards which guarded Harry at the Dursley's could never be as strong as the ancient ones which guarded any one of the Potter's numerous properties, or even the more recently acquired ones, which James and Lily had purchased. James had been able to replicate some of the ancient protections, and the Marauders had added their own, as had Lily, who was to be quite feared when wielding a wand.

Sirius supposed he could simply grab Harry and take him to one of those estates, but that would raise attention. He wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to let it slip to the Ministry about Sirius' involvement with the whole affair. Besides, as much as Sirius disliked the old man, he wouldn't keep Harry from returning to Hogwarts in September, and he knew that once removed from his sight, he would never be able to get to Harry again.

The man continued his pacing, letting out an occasional growl of frustration. This was a mess, and he wasn't completely sure how to fix it. The problem was Harry's life was at the center of all of this, and Sirius couldn't afford to mess things up for his godson even more than they already were.

Suddenly the curtains were pulled aside, and Sirius reacted instinctively drawing his wand and pointing it at the beautiful young woman, cursing himself as he realized he should have transformed into his Animagus.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Sirius growled out, already planning on Obliviating the young woman.

"I mean no 'arm Sirius Black. I am Fleur, ze Beauxbatons Champion, of ze French Noble Family ze Delacours." The blonde stated calmly, unperturbed by the wand aimed at her face. Sirius kept his face impassive, but he was impressed. This young lady was clearly well versed in the Ancient Customs, and had a certain charm about her, that Sirius was sure had nothing to do with her obvious Veela heritage. However his mind picked up on something she said, and his grip on his wand tightened.

"How do you know my name?" He shot out, prepared to subdue her if necessary. Seeing that he was on edge, Fleur gently reached for her wand, and when Sirius took a step forward, she held it out to him, the point of the wand facing towards her. Sirius took it gently, nodding his thanks towards the blonde, but not letting his guard down. She could have another wand after all. He had learned never to underestimate someone.

"Even in France you are known." Fleur stated, her face calm. "We are allies with Great Britain after all, your escape was widely publicized. 'Owever your arrest was a source of much controversy in my country. To give a life sentence in France, one must have been interrogated zoroughly with Veritaserum, and if ze potion is in question zere are other ways to get 'ze answers. Many people in my country questioned ze truth of your crimes. I 'ave seen ze way you are looking at 'Arry, and I do not believe you wish 'im any 'arm."

Sirius was floored by the girl's faith in him. She had never met him before, nor had she ever heard his side of the story, yet she believed him so completely. It made him wonder if more people suspected his innocence than he was originally allowed to believe. At least in France it seemed that he might have a few allies that were not in Albus Dumbledore's pocket.

"Thank you Lady Delacour, I am grateful for your trust. I in no way mean to be rude, however what business do you wish to have with my godson? I assume it was Harry you came to see."

The blonde flushed slightly, and Sirius smirked, realizing that she might have been hoping to see someone else as well, though Sirius wasn't really sure who that someone would be. Tossing her hair slightly and raising her chin, which Sirius recognized as a defensive position.

"You are welcome Lord Black. And I did wish to visit with 'Arry. I had approached Dumbledore about allowing 'im to visit my 'ome in Paris. I 'ave befriended 'im, and well I 'ave to admit I was surprised with our interactions. As ze 'eir of ze Noble 'Ouse of Potter, I 'ad assumed zat 'e would be familiar with ze Ancient Customs. I 'ad 'oped zat we could possibly 'elp educate 'im, but Dumbledore refused, insisting zat Harry spend time with 'is relatives all summer."

Sirius sighed and let out a breath of frustrated air. "I am slowly becoming well aware of just how ignorant Harry is to his birthright. He doesn't even know about the Ancient Customs, he just automatically assumes all traditions are rooted in Pureblood bigotry. I am trying to figure out a way to teach him about it, but Dumbledore is being impossible as I'm sure you've realized. I think he's manipulating Harry for his own purposes."

Seeing the flash in the young lady's eyes only reinforced Sirius that neither women, nor Veela were creatures that should ever be messed with.

"'E is doing what? 'Ow dare 'e attempt to use ze Potter 'eir? Ze Boy 'Oo Lived nonetheless! Zis is simply-" By this point Fleur broke off and began ranting in her native tongue. Sirius smirked, as he understood basic French, or at least the curse words, and privately he agreed that Dumbledore deserved everything the part Veela was verbally throwing at him. However he needed to head her off before she got too far. Her offer had sparked an interest in Sirius, and he wanted to explore it further.

"While I am inclined to agree with your opinions on Professor Dumbledore, I would like to talk to you about your offer." Sirius said, and the fire seemed to die in the French Champion's eyes.

"Yes. As I said, I would like it very much should 'Arry come to visit in France. My younger sister I know would like to profess 'er gratitude, as 'Arry did save 'er zis year. 'Owever ze Potters were always respected as an influential family in France, and I do believe 'is mother came from ze Evans family?" Seeing Sirius nod in confusion, she continued. "Zey were influential among ze muggles. 'Arry seems to 'ave a foot in two worlds for most of 'is life. I would be 'onored to 'elp 'im explore zem. Also, I am sure zat 'e would benefit from understanding Wizarding Society, as well as seeing Magical Paris. I 'ave 'eard zat for zose 'oo 'ave not seen it before it is quite...magical."

Sirius smirked with her, and nodded. "Did you explain all of this to Dumbledore? The benefits far outweigh the cons. Voldemort would never look for Harry in France. Not to mention Harry will be turning fifteen this year, he should be preparing to come out into Society."

Fleur shrugged. "I tried to explain, but 'e would not let me. I was confused, but what you 'ave told me makes much sense. 'e always did seem to 'ave an unusual interest in 'Arry."

The Marauder glanced at his godson who was lying still on his hospital wing bed, frowning in his sleep. He never should have let Harry out of his sight. Sirius would never forgive himself for letting his grief consume himself that night, for it very well might have cost Harry his childhood. His parents had already been ripped from him because of Voldemort, but it seemed that his happiness had been stolen from him because of Sirius' inability to see past his love of James and Lily.

Sirius knew that he had a lot to atone for with his godson, however he was not the only one. He would not allow Albus Dumbledore to continue ruining Harry's life for his own twisted purposes.

"As the godfather of Harry Potter, and the rightful guardian of the Potter inheritance, I accept the request of Lady Delacour." Sirius spoke formally, and several sparks erupted from his wand at his words. Fleur grinned at him beautifully, and Sirus found himself smiling back. He was making a change, he was doing things for the better.

"Thank you for your generous offer Lady Dealcour." Sirius said charmingly, pleased with himself when she flushed at his smooth speech. "However it might take some time to get things straightened out. Albus Dumbledore is no longer in charge of Harry's life, however he might not take the news so well. Also, I would like to be able to spend some time with him, learning more about him, becoming a bigger part of his life, like I should have from the beginning."

Fleur nodded in understanding. "Of course. 'e is your godson after all. And you too are most welcome at my family's 'ome Lord Black. I zank you for your acceptance and your treatment of ze matter." From her miffed tone of voice, Sirius surmised that she had been extremely displeased with Dumbledore's dismissal of her request. He knew that while Dumbledore-like several Wizarding families in Britain-might disregard the Ancient Customs, however most of France still lived by them. Fleur must have seen it as an incredible insult, when Dumbledore refused to even consider her offer. It would have been taken as a slight against her family, and their ability to care for the Boy Who Lived.

Curtsying slightly, Fleur sent a soft caring look at Harry, before sweeping out of the room with a grace that was absolutely stunning. For a moment Sirius stared after her, wondering if she had ulterior motives for inviting Harry to her home, however he quickly dismissed the thought. He knew that Harry would be approaching the age when girls would be more noticeable and appealing to him, however he didn't see anything occurring between him and Fleur. Sure she was certainly feisty, a trait Harry was sure to chase if he was anything like his father, however Fleur and Harry didn't seem to click in Sirius' mind. He was sure Harry would find the right girl for himself, and Sirius wouldn't hesitate to offer his help. From now on, he would be doing everything he could to ensure that Harry's life was everything he deserved it to be.

But for now, all Harry needed was for him to be there when he woke up, so transforming into his Animagus form, Sirius resumed his spot on Harry's bed, laying his head down on Harry's chest, vowing to change his godson's life for the better.

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**I hoped you enjoyed the prequel to Circle of Flames! This first chapter is a little on the short side, however this is just introducing the story, and setting up the current conflict. All chapters after this should be longer. I do have a question for any readers, and that is concerning Fleur's accent. Would you rather me write it out, as J.K. Rowling did in the books, or would you prefer me to simply write her dialogue the same as I would Sirius? I do not have a problem with either, though I know it gives some people a headache trying to read the French accent, while others get frustrated and say it is 'OOC' of Fleur to say 'that' instead of 'zat'. I am willing to do whichever the majority of reader's prefer, though keep in mind that writing her accent is a little more time consuming, and I am more likely to make slip-ups. Reviews are appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome, flames are amusing, and every read is appreciated. **


	2. Chapter One: Of Articles and House Elves

**A/N: I am stunned and exceedingly grateful for the response and reception this story has already acquired. I know AU's aren't everyone's cup of tea, so I am glad that people seem to enjoy this fic so far. I am also exceptionally thankful for those who have provided their opinions on my previous question, through reviews and PM's. I believe I've responded to all my reviewers, though a few have disabled PM's, so if you are one of those reviewers and would like me to respond to your review in some other way just drop me a line!**

**Things to know: This is an AU story, deviating from canon at the end of GoF. Though I will try to stick to previous canon as much as possible, I might change some minor details to suit my own purposes. If I do, I will be sure to let my readers know. There will be no character bashing, per se, however certain people will be shed in darker lights, and certain character flaws may be highlighted or exaggerated to fit the story.**

**Disclaimer: I hold no claim over any character, plot, creature, or anything else you might recognize. I have manufactured certain events within J.K. Rowling's fictional world for pure entertainment, and am receiving no profit from this story. Nothing you recognize belongs to me.**

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**Chapter One: Of Articles and House Elves**

Harry Potter was utterly bored. At his desperate urging his godfather had finally left his side, but while Harry experienced a momentary bout of relief, it was quickly replaced by an inexplicable sense of loneliness. It was quite ridiculous, considering that Harry wanted Sirius to leave him alone after all, however as soon as the dog Animagus had actually left Harry was left alone with his thoughts, and at the moment they were dark thoughts indeed. The dreamless sleep potion that Madame Pomfrey had given him had helped, but now even the brightness of daylight was not enough to drive away the demons that were plaguing Harry. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the graveyard, Cedric's dead body, the flash of green that he had thought certain to end his life once and for all. Harry felt trapped in a waking nightmare with no way out, but he was in no hurry to ask for help. Help had never really been offered to him before, not this kind. He idly wondered if he ought to go to some sort of counseling, however he quickly dismissed the thought. There was no way in hell the Dursley's would pay for that, no matter how traumatized he might have been, and Harry had never heard of Wizarding counselors. If he mentioned it to Dumbledore the Headmaster would probably insist Harry talk to him instead, and Harry was in no mood to do that.

The fourteen year old boy couldn't quite explain where this dislike for the Headmaster seemed to have come from. It was almost like he had built up a well of resentment for the old man, and he had finally tapped into it. He supposed a part of himself placed the blame on Cedric's death with Dumbledore, and the blunt truth was he wasn't completely blameless in it. Harry felt certain that there could have been _something _Dumbledore could have done to get him out of the Tournament. It was ridiculous, the thought that he couldn't do magic over the summer holidays to save himself from the Dursley's, yet he was apparently old enough to be thrust into a dangerous Tournament that had been the cause of multiple deaths in previous years. The thought that Dumbledore could have prevented the unnecessary death of a good person made Harry's blood boil.

He knew that Sirius was angry with the Headmaster as well, though somehow he didn't quite think 'angry' truly scratched the surface of Sirius' feelings for the man. He had been tense the entire time he was with Harry, and the fourteen year old wizard had caught his grandfather cursing the 'bloody old fool' on numerous occasions under his breath. As angry as Harry was with Dumbledore, he couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for the man. Sirius had finally wheedled something of a confession out of Harry, concerning the Dursleys. Harry had barely even begun delving into his experiences, but he had mentioned the cupboard under the stairs, and the Dursley's attempts to 'squash the magic out of him'. At that part he truly had worried that Sirius would explode. Not a half hour ago the man had transformed into a dog and stormed off-well as much as a dog could transform at any rate.

Now the dark haired teen was left staring at the ceiling with absolutely nothing to do. Spotting Mrs. Weasley's magazine, Harry grabbed it and absentmindedly began flipping through it. Sure, Witch Weekly didn't exactly hold much interest for him, especially knowing that the rag printed rubbish like Rita Skeeter's articles, but Harry was in serious danger of dying from boredom. Passing sections with violently pink pages, he finally stumbled on an article that caught his eye, and he began to read with a frown.

**Selwyn Engagement (And Hearts) Broken!**

**By Gael Fawcett**

_Embarrassment, devastation, and loss circle the Selwyn family this weekend, as their eldest son, Pollux Selwyn, mourns the death of a well made match. Isobel MacDougal, age fifteen, was betrothed to Selwyn during her family's Christmastime Ball. Isobel reached the age of Coming on December 21st, and after the traditional three Coming Balls, her family consulted with well renowned matchmaker Cynthia Davis, who assured the family that Pollux Selwyn would be the best match to make. On Christmas Day of this year, Isobel MacDougal was betrothed to the nineteen year old Selwyn son. The age difference raised some controversy, (though the engagement of Abraxas Malfoy to his then fourteen year old wife still is the center of much argument) however the MacDougal family assured the Wizarding World that Isobel would be finishing her schooling at Hogwarts, and it was their daughter's wish to settle in a career before the wedding would actually take place. (See page 9 for 'Betrothals, Babies, and Business' for a look into how betrothed women manage to balance their duties with a career). However Isobel MacDougal had other plans for Hogwarts besides simply finishing her schooling._

_Only last week reporter Rita Skeeter shed light on the Ravenclaw's illicit activities after hours, letting the world know that the spoken for young woman appeared to be fraternizing with none other than half blood housemate Anthony Goldstein. Upon hearing the news Isobel was quickly pulled from Hogwarts, and made to complete her exams at home. The MacDougal and Selwyn families were in conference for two days, before reaching a decision to break the engagement, largely influenced by the embarrassment the young witch brought to both families. When asked for a statement, the MacDougal family gave no comment, but Isobel MacDougal could be heard saying, 'I was given no choice in the matter, I was pushed to a door I didn't like. I just happened to create a window instead.'_

_Here at Witch Weekly we talked to Cynthia Davis, asking her professional opinion on the matter. She stated "I am known as one of the best. I create matches based on compatibility, finances, blood status, the wishes of the parents, and magical abilities. I make matches, I do not find soulmates. Sometimes the wishes of the parents conflict with the heart of the young woman or man in question, however as the parents are the ones paying, it is their wishes that I take into priority. My matches are suggestions, not ironclad rules. Sometimes happiness is the price of a well made match." The MacDougal-Selwyn affair is only the most recent example of what some are calling a new movement in pureblood tradition. While matchmakers are still sought after, and lavish balls are still held, this generation seems determined to follow their hearts, and not the Old Ways. One of the most popular examples cited for abandoning the Betrothal Balls are the Potters. James Potter, only heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, had been an extremely sought after candidate, but ended up settling down with a muggleborn, Lily Evans, yet the two of them produced the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry James Potter. No one truly knows whether the pureblooded matches are the most powerful, however if this generation gets their way, then arranged matches might very well become obsolete by the turn of the century._

Harry frowned at the article in confusion. He wasn't quite sure how he really felt about all of it. He didn't understand half of the references in the paper, things about betrothals and Old Ways, and other such nonsense. It almost seemed like medieval royalty, the matches the journalist was talking about. And then there was the matter of Isobel MacDougal. She was a Ravenclaw in Harry's year, a nice quiet girl. Harry hadn't ever really spoken to her, but she had lent him a textbook once, so that he could finish an Astronomy assignment. He hadn't even known she was engaged. It seemed ridiculous to him, that someone his age could be preparing to get married.

He didn't quite understand the connotations of the article. Betrothal sounded...well it sounded trapping, permanent, at least to Harry. He couldn't imagine himself getting engaged, not at fifteen at any rate. Betrothals were for people like Malfoy, people who were rich, and pureblood, and bigoted. But Harry had never received any impression that the MacDougals were anything like the Malfoys. And the article had mentioned his father-had his father been betrothed? Had he seen a matchmaker? Harry couldn't picture his father being like a Malfoy, he had married a muggleborn for crying out loud! He wondered if it had caused his father's parents any grief. Harry bit his lip and continued to stare at the article in curiosity. These were questions that he wanted answered, he just wasn't sure how to go about asking them.

Hearing footsteps approach his bed, Harry's green eyes widened behind his glasses, and he looked around wildly, trying to figure out a place to put the offending purple magazine. Enough rumors went around about him anyways, if it was someone like Draco Malfoy coming to taunt him, the last thing Harry wanted to be caught with was a copy of _Witch Weekly_. And even if it was just Sirius, he didn't really want to get into what he read, not yet at least. He wanted to do some of his own research, and come to his own conclusions, something that he admittedly did not get to do often, not with Hermione as a mate.

Deciding that the only option Harry really had in his haste was under his pillow, Harry quickly shoved the magazine underneath the fluffy white pillow. He decided immediately that he would never take the mickey out of Hermione again, at least not for keeping that letter from Lockhart underneath her pillow, as she was probably just trying to hide it from her two best mates. Harry prayed that whatever deity had it out for him let him have just a little bit of luck this time.

The curtains around his bed parted slightly, and as soon as the large black dog was inside the small place of safety Madame Pomfrey's rules on privacy allowed, he transformed back into his human self. He hardly even took notice of Harry, simply pacing the length of his hospital bed-a habit he had picked up over the past twenty-four hours-seething about the Hogwarts Headmaster.

"Damn meddling fool, thinks he knows best for everyone and doesn't take anyone else into consideration. Stupid old puppeteer, doesn't even know the damage he causes."

"Sirius!" Harry called, slightly surprised at his godfather's single minded rant. Normally his godfather would at least keep his rants to a mumble, but it seemed that he no longer cared.

"...doesn't know the affect this will have on him. Won't tell me a bloody thing and I'm his damn godfather! Circe I want to just-"

"SIRIUS!"

Finally the former prisoner was startled out of his venting session, and his dark eyes met his godson's slightly amused emerald ones. Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, Sirius cracked a grin at the teenager sitting up on the hospital bed, looking scarily at home in the Hospital Wing.

"Er, sorry about that Harry. The old coot made me mad, and it's quite hard to vent as a dog, other than chasing squirrels, which Hogwarts has always been mysteriously absent of." Harry grinned at his godfather's statement, but cocked his head to the side slightly, scrutinizing the man. It unnerved Sirius when Harry did that, because it was the exact same thing James would do when trying to figure out what was bothering his best mate, however Harry did it with Lily's eyes.

Harry, for his part, was just trying to figure out what was bothering Sirius so much. Sure, Harry was no more fond of Dumbledore than Sirius was, but he guessed that the old man must have done something truly awful to get Sirius this angry. Or at least, to make Sirius not care that Harry saw his anger. It slightly worried Harry-what else could Dumbledore truly do to him?

"Sirius, what did Dumbledore do?" Harry narrowed his eyes at the hesitation he saw on his godfather's face, and he shook his head. "No, tell me, please. Dumbledore has done enough of keeping me in the dark, I want to know. I'm sick of just taking everything he says with a blind faith. I want to know what's made you so angry."

Harry watched Sirius sigh, and his stomach sank as Sirius began to speak. "I didn't actually talk to Dumbledore. I was approaching his office, but I heard him talking to some other people in there, the Weasleys." Harry's heart dropped further as he watched Sirius let out a breath of air, trying to figure out how to best approach things. "He doesn't want them writing to you this summer. He doesn't want you to know what's going on Harry, and he got Ron and Hermione on his side."

In his career as a Quidditch player thus far, Harry had been hit by his fair share of Bludgers. Fred and George were excellent Beaters and usually kept the nasty buggers away from him, but every now and then one slipped through, and managed to get him. During one particularly brutal practice, one of the Bludgers had managed to catch Harry in the chest, knocking the wind out of him, and nearly cracking a few ribs. The Weasley twins had never gotten such a shouting, even from their often irate mother. But Harry had thought it to be the most unpleasant sensation, feeling unable to breathe, as if his lungs were caving in, and he could do nothing to stop it.

Now, even though there was no Bludger present, Harry was experiencing that same sensation, realizing that his friends were siding with Dumbledore before their best mate. Tears prickled in the back of his eyes, and he hastily wiped his sleeve against his eyes, not wanting to cry anymore in front of his godfather. He was certain that he had already overwhelmed Sirius enough with his tears over the past few days. However he just couldn't help it. He knew it was slightly ridiculous, and that Ron and Hermione would just be following orders, but still, he viewed their acceptance of Dumbledore's terms as the ultimate betrayal.

"Harry..." Sirius spoke up softly, and Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat, holding back the tears. He coughed slightly, not wanting to let on how hurt he truly was. Even though Sirius' look was purely sympathetic, he did not want to be the subject of any pity.

"I-it's okay Sirius. I get it. They're-they're just doing what Dumbledore tells them. Hermione would never disobey an authority figure, and Dumbledore is Ron's hero." Harry managed to say, trying to make his voice sound as normal as possible. However he stopped when Sirius began shaking his head.

"No, Harry, it isn't okay. I can't tell you how to feel about Ron and Hermione's decisions, but I can tell you that it was completely wrong of Dumbledore to ask that of them. You're their best friend, and honestly, you have every right to know what's going on in the world."

Harry let out a sigh, and began speaking, though he almost felt as if he were simply talking to himself instead of his godfather. "I don't really feel a part of the Wizarding World. I didn't even know it existed until four years ago, and there are always things that I don't understand, or don't know, things that make me feel stupid once I learn them. I don't belong in this world do I? Maybe it was just some sort of fluke. I should have been a Squib."

Sirius stared at his godson in shock, in complete disbelief. "Harry...you don't really think that do you?" He asked horrified. "You are no Squib! Just-just because you were kept out of your rightful place in this world because of some meddling old codger's whims does not make you any less a part of the Wizarding World. Circe, Harry you don't even know how large your role in this world even is!"

The fourteen year old rolled his eyes, a habit that must have been his mother's, because happy-go-lucky James Potter rarely rolled his eyes, unless Sirius had been doing something incredibly stupid at the time.

"Yeah, Sirius, I know. The-Boy-Who-Lived and all of that. But according to Fudge, Voldemort isn't back, and he made me out to be a liar, so who knows how much longer that will even last. Not that I'm really complaining."

Sirius couldn't help but note how perceptive Harry truly was, because it definitely seemed as though that was the direction Fudge would be taking. Sirius continued to shake his head, trying to figure out how to word things so that Harry would grasp what he was trying to explain.

"Harry, that's not what I'm trying to say. Voldemort regardless, you are the last of the Potter line. You're an Ancient and Noble Lord by birth." Seeing Harry's blank stare caused Sirius an endless amount of frustration, and once again he cursed Dumbledore in his mind. "The Potters have been a part of Wizarding Society for centuries, and they are rumored to have links to the Peverells-" again nothing, "-and even Godric Gryffindor." At this Harry started slightly, looking at Sirius in surprise.

"You are far more important than you realize. Harry, you truly do belong in this world, and I will do my damnedest to make sure that you understand that, and what exactly it entails."

The dark haired young wizard looked at his godfather in confusion, however any questions he had were halted by the strange combination combination that came literally flying through the curtains surrounding his bed. All of a sudden Harry was practically assaulted by something tight and warm, while red filled his vision, and a flowery scent filled his nostrils. It took nearly a full minute for his bewildered mind to realize that Ginny Weasley was hugging him tightly.

Sirius stood by looking nonplussed, however slightly amused by the exchange. Harry was simply confused. Was this the same Ginny who was often embarrassed in his presence, reduced to blushing and stammering? But as the little redhead pulled away, Harry came to the startling conclusion that no, this was not the same Ginny. This Ginny had a newly found determination in her brown eyes that just made her seem so much...more. It was the look in her eyes that immediately put Harry at ease, and he grinned at her.

"Merlin Ginny, are you trying to imitate your mum, or are you working on becoming a boa constrictor Animagus?" He teased kindly. She immediately flushed, however it was accompanied by her pretty brown eyes rolling, and her tongue poked out between her lips, as Harry imagined she must often do to her brothers.

"You hush Harry James Potter! You had us all worried to death!" As she put her hands on her hips scoldingly, Harry began to give merit to his first idea of Ginny attempting to take after Mrs. Weasley.

Sirius cleared his throat slightly, looking on at the two teenagers in amusement, and both of them jumped slightly, startled out of their thoughts. They both flushed, though Ginny a deeper red, realizing how rude she must have come across.

"Sorry Mr. Black, it was rather rude of me to just barge in here like that I suppose." Ginny said sheepishly. "I was just worried about Harry. No one ever bothers to tell me anything." A tinge of bitterness tainted her voice, and Harry frowned at that, realizing it was true; Ginny was often left out of matters that Ron deemed exclusive to Harry, himself, and Hermione. "I'm Ginny Weasley by the way."

Sirius arched an eyebrow at the 'Mr. Black' part of her apology, but quickly waved the rest of it off. "Not at all, I understand your eagerness to see a friend." Sirius made sure not to place an emphasis on the word 'friend' because he knew it would embarrass Harry, but in his mind he was doing a dance. He knew that if Harry didn't already fancy the young girl he would eventually. Sirius could read it in his bright green eyes, alight with a new happiness that hadn't been there moments ago. _Those damn Potters and their redheads._ "And please, call me Sirius."

Ginny gave no reaction to Sirius' name, and the Black heir raised his eyebrows again. "I must say, your reaction to me is slightly better than your mother's." If that wasn't an understatement Sirius didn't know what was.

At that Ginny cracked a grin and shook her head. "Mum takes things a little too literally, she believes pretty much anything in the Prophet. Anyways I already knew you were innocent." Her smile only widened, upon seeing the slack jawed men in front of her. "Really Harry, when you, Ron, and Hermione don't want people to overhear you, you should really cast a silencing charm. I am related to Fred and George after all."

Harry's cheeks reddened; he had obviously underestimated the youngest Weasley, but aside from some mild humiliation, he really was quite okay with that.

"Besides, I knew you were innocent anyways." Ginny spoke to Sirius directly this time, and his brow furrowed in confusion. "I once heard Filch say you and Harry's dad were the Fred and George of your day." Ginny shrugged her shoulders slightly and stated simply, "Fred and George couldn't betray each other, and so you couldn't have betrayed him."

Sirius found himself oddly choked up at her words. He knew who Fred and George were-men after his own heart-and to have his bond with James compared to that of a pair of inseparable twins' was humbling. Ginny's blind faith, in almost childlike innocence touched him. The fact that someone could just believe him without ever having met him was extraordinary, and he found himself clearing his throat, attempting-and failing slightly-to regain his composure.

"Well thank you Ginny, I appreciate it."

"Dobby!"

Sirius started out of his own world, and turned to his godson, who's attention had been averted to a House Elf who stared adoringly up at Harry. Ginny too looked startled, and her brown eyes widened slightly before she began to talk with glee and mirth evident in her voice.

"Oh yeah! I completely forgot-sorry Dobby-that's why I came to talk to you!" Her eyes darkened slightly. "Ron came back to the Common Room complaining to Hermione about how they wouldn't be able to write to you this summer. Of course they clammed up the moment I started asking questions, but I managed to wheedle out the truth from Hermione. She told me that Dumbledore ordered them not to tell you anything important in letters, which is pretty much everything." At this her brown eyes flashed angrily, and Harry couldn't help but note she looked rather pretty that way. "It infuriated me, but I think I figured out a way around Dumbledore's orders!"

At this, both Harry and Sirius were staring at her in rapt attention. Sirius was frowning slightly, trying to figure out which alley he had not yet explored. He supposed he should be miffed that a thirteen year old girl had managed to figure out a way to contact his godson, where he-Sirius Orion Black-had failed, but he had long ago learned never to underestimate redheads.

"How? Dumbledore will be monitoring our mail, and he has ways to track Harry, to make sure that he is at his aunt and uncle's house." This time there was no mistaking the flash of anger in both Sirius and Ginny's eyes, and Harry ducked his head, slightly embarrassed, but mollified nonetheless.

In response, Ginny tossed a book onto Harry's bed, and he picked it up, frowning at the title. "'House Elf Genealogy of the Ancient and Nobles'? Ginny what is this?" He could not understand why his best mate's younger sister was clearly so pleased with the thick, dusty, old book that she had tossed to him unceremoniously.

"That, Harry, is your ticket out." Reaching across him, she flipped the book open, a few strands of her Weasley red hair brushed against his cheek, and he shivered slightly, before glancing down at the page Ginny indicated. He squinted at the writing which was difficult to decipher, as it had been handwritten in some sort of ancient calligraphy. Sirius too leaned over his shoulder to view what Ginny said was so important.

Too impatient to wait for the boys to figure out the significance of what Ginny had found, she tapped a family tree, and began to read from the margins, shedding light on her discovery.

"Look Harry! This is a family tree of House Elves and families! It says that Dobby was born to Hobber and Kappy, the personal House Elves of James and Lily Potter!"

Ginny's voice was tinged in excitement, and Sirius drew in a sharp breath. Harry looked at the two of them in confusion, and then at Dobby, who had remained surprisingly quiet, his large tennis ball eyes staring at him in unadulterated happiness.

"Wait, so Dobby, you worked for my parents?"

However it was Sirius who answered Harry's question by shaking his head. "No, Harry, Dobby was born on the same day you were." Harry stared at his godfather in confusion, and Sirius elaborated. "The Potters had probably close to fifty House Elves-"

"Don't tell Hermione that."

"However your grandparents each had a 'personal' House-Elf. You see with the Ancient and Noble Houses, every time an heir is born, the personal House Elves of the heir's parents also have a baby. Kappy was your father's personal House Elf. When he married your mum Harry, her mate-Hobber-became Lily's personal House Elf. I never met Dobby though." Sirius turned to the Elf with curious eyes, and Dobby bowed so low his nose practically brushed the floor.

"It is an honor to meet Master's godfather, one of the Most Ancient and Noble Lords." Dobby squeaked, before turning to Harry, those large eyes swimming in tears. "Harry Potter is my Master!" He cried happily, so proud that for a moment Harry worried that the poor Elf might actually burst. "I always knew young Master was a great and powerful Wizard!"

Harry grinned at Dobby, but his happy expression quickly morphed into one of confusion. "Wait, Dobby, if you were my personal House Elf, why were you working for the Malfoys?"

At this question, Ginny too looked on in confusion, and Sirius' face darkened. "I think I know the answer to that question. When Dumbledore sent you over to live with the Dursley's, you couldn't very well have a House Elf with you. What James and Lily didn't leave to you, they left to me and Remus." And Peter, but one of the few helpful things Dumbledore had managed to do was make sure that everything left to Peter was transferred back to Harry. "As I'm an Ancient and Noble Lord, it makes sense that Dobby would have been transferred over to my possession. However since I went to Azkaban, he went to my next living relative, Narcissa." Sirius made an ugly face at the thought of the Malfoys abusing the privilege of Harry's personal House Elf. "Lucius Malfoy drove his House Elf to an early grave, and Narcissa's refused to mate after his death, leaving Draco without a personal Elf, so Dobby's appearance must have been most convenient."

Ginny looked vaguely disgusted. "That's sick. That's absolutely disgusting. I think Hermione doesn't really understand what she's getting into with SPEW, but she's totally right about House Elf abuse. And the fact that Dobby didn't even belong to the Malfoys just makes everything so much worse."

Harry nodded furiously, completely agreeing with her, but unable to truly voice his opinions, due to forcing the bile down his throat. Dobby belonged to him. He was responsible for yet another creature's life, and Dobby had suffered needlessly for years.

"Dumbledore." He croaked out hoarsely. "Dobby never would have had to go through that if Dumbledore had just placed me with a proper family!" Harry burst out, and took a deep shuddering breath. He realized that Ginny's hand was on his shoulder, and offered him a surprising amount of comfort.

Turning to the redhead, he looked between her and Sirius. "Look, I'm really glad to know this, and now I can-I dunno, I can try to make better arrangements for Dobby or something, but how does this fix our problem of me being trapped at the Dursleys?"

Ginny's eyes sparkled with mischief, making her look more like Fred and George than ever. "House Elf magic is different than Wizarding magic Harry. Especially magic used for a personal Elf's Master. Dobby can make all of his magic undetectable, he could get you in and out of the Dursleys without Dumbledore ever knowing!"

Harry's eyes widened to the size of saucers, realizing what exactly that meant. His head whipped to look at Dobby, his eyes begging the Elf to confirm Ginny's claims. Dobby nodded happily, and Harry let out a whoop of joy.

Sirius too grinned widely, his mind quickly making plans and arrangements. However he had to rain on Harry's parade slightly. "Harry, as ecstatic as I am about that-and trust me, we will be putting Dobby's talents to use if he's willing-" Dobby nodded enthusiastically, "We can't get you out of the Dursleys right away. Dobby's magic won't be able to hold out all summer. Besides, I believe Dumbledore intends to keep me locked up in my old home, and I won't be able to escape without him noticing." Harry's and Ginny's faces fell slightly, and Sirius quite felt as if he was kicking puppies. "But we will get you out of there as soon as possible. I have a plan for getting my name cleared, and hopefully I'll be a free man in a few weeks at the most. Ginny can I count on you to help me?" He asked with a wink. He already knew Dumbledore would arrange for the Weasleys to stay at Grimauld Place, and he was sure the redheaded witch would be eager to do anything to get Harry out of that awful place. Not to mention he could pester her about her evident crush on his godson.

"Of course. And Harry, Dobby would still be able to communicate between you and Sirius. Plus I'll be able to write to you!"

"How?" Harry asked, curious as to how the witch planned on getting around Dumbledore's invasive plans.

Ginny simply smirked, and grabbed a piece of paper off of Harry's nightstand and began folding it into a beautiful, delicate bird. Holding it in between her hands she blew on it lightly, and it began to fly in front of Harry's delighted eyes.

"I've always been good with paper. Most young witches and wizards have a natural aptitude. Fred and George blew things up, naturally."

Harry laughed, and let the origami bird gently land in his hand, and began to converse with Ginny about general castle gossip, among other things. Sirius watched as the two Gryffindors chatted happily, noticing that Ginny skillfully managed to keep the conversation away from the Third Task, and indeed, the Tournament altogether.

Content that his plans were all falling into place, Sirius transformed back into his Animagus form and rested his head on Harry's lap, enjoying having his dark fur stroked by both Harry and Ginny. Harry had been forced to endure too much suffering for one so young, but things were finally starting to change.

James had always said Sirius would have to grow up some time.

* * *

**There you go readers, Ginny Weasley. I apologize for any OOC-ness on her part, she was incredibly difficult to write. I attempted to capture her characterization as best as I could, however dealing with the fact that I am male, and have never, nor will ever pretend to understand the female mind, it was rather difficult for me to write. If you see anything that bothers you with how I have written her, feel free to point it out, and if it simply my own ignorance, I'll do my best to amend it, though certain things must remain for the overall plot. Reviews are appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome, flames are amusing, and every read is appreciated. **


	3. Chapter 3: Of Friends and Allies

**A/N: Dear readers, I am so sorry for the length of the wait between updates. I have every intention of continuing this story, however real life got in my way, and I was unable to update until now. I am hoping that my next chapter should be posted within the next two or three weeks, but I can promise that it won't be the next few months like this update. Again, I humbly apologize, and I hope that you enjoy the next installment of Circle of Flames.**

* * *

Harry walked through the corridors of Hogwarts, enjoying the peace and quiet that often accompanied the castle on a Sunday in May. So many of the students were out enjoying the splendid weather, and their last moments at Hogwarts for the year, that the castle was virtually uninhabited. And while a part of Harry longed for the outdoors, the cool breeze ruffling his dark hair, a larger part just wanted the peaceful atmosphere currently present in the castle. He had just been released from the Hospital Wing, and Madame Pomfrey's advice for him had been, as usual, rest. For once though, Harry rather thought he'd take her up on the offer. Though he had plenty of his time in the Hospital Wing doing just that, it was hard to truly rest his mind, when he was plagued with disturbing thoughts of Cedric's death, the Dark Lord's return, and Professor Dumbledore's mind games. It was becoming a frustrating circle for him, and all Harry really wanted to do was doze off in one of the comfiest couches in the Gryffindor Common Room, one which would surely be open due to the large majority of the Hogwarts population being outside.

However his assumption proved to be untrue, and the moment Harry walked through the portrait of the Fat Lady, he saw Ron and Hermione jump up, their heads bent together conspiratorially only moments before. The action immediately ignited a flicker of annoyance in the bespectacled teen; hadn't he had enough with the secrets and the lies? His two best friends had obviously been talking about him, and it just served to anger him.

What right did they have to discuss him when he wasn't present? He could only imagine their conversation: '_Oh Ron, I'm so worried about Harry! He can't be taking Cedric's death well._' '_Well it's not like he was that close to the bloke. It's a shame he's dead, but at least it wasn't someone Harry deeply cared about._' '_Ron! I can't believe you! Harry is delicate, he must be so hurt by this. He just needs to talk to us, and we can help him._'

And it seemed that his thought process was correct, as Hermione began wringing her hands nervously, and cautiously inched forward to him, as if approaching a wild animal. "Harry?" She asked tentatively, moving so that she was at arm's length away from him. "We didn't know you were getting out of Hospital Wing today."

"Yeah mate!" Ron added hotly from his place over by the sofa, his ears slightly reddened. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Harry moved his hands behind his back slightly, so that his two best mates wouldn't notice the clenched fists. He couldn't stand the accusatory tone in their voices, demanding to know why he hadn't informed them of his every action. It was infuriating, especially since they hadn't even been down to the Hospital Wing to see him since that first night.

"Yeah well, you would have known if you had bothered to visit." Harry snapped irritably. He watched as Hermione's eyebrows raised, before she exchanged a knowing look with Ron. It was that look that angered him more than anything, his nails digging into the flesh of his palms. He knew that look. It was her '_I told you so_' look, and he wanted nothing more than to see the smugness slide off her face.

"Harry, I'm sorry but we couldn't. Madame Pomfrey wouldn't let us in, and we thought that you just needed your space."

_That didn't stop Ginny from sneaking in to see me._

The words were on the tip of Harry's tongue, and he definitely wanted to speak them aloud, see their reactions when they realized that they had done a poor job at being his mates, but he held himself back. He wasn't quite ready to reveal that little tidbit of information. He couldn't quite explain it, but he liked the idea of his newfound friendship with Ginny being a secret he kept all to himself.

Besides, for all he knew they would just report back to Dumbledore, and then Ginny would find herself being forced to make the same promise not to communicate with him. If he didn't have Ginny to talk to as well, he felt that he just might mad from the loneliness of isolation at the Dursley's.

"Yeah whatever." Harry finally muttered, not looking at either of them. Hermione seemed to take that as Harry accepting her excuse, for she immediately brightened.

"So how are you?" Hermione asked, her voice sympathetic.

Once again Harry squeezed his fists together. For all of her intelligence, sometimes it seemed that Hermione had even less tact than Ron. Everyone should know how utterly useless that question really was. What was the appropriate response to that? He had watched someone die earlier this week, what was he supposed to say? '_I'm fine_'? But Harry had a feeling that it was exactly what Hermione wanted to hear, simply to justify her own desire to be right, to have Harry need her.

Thankfully he was saved from answering the question by the appearance of none other than Ginny Weasley.

"Hey Harry! I went down to the Hospital Wing to see you, but Madame Pomfrey said you had already left." Ginny smiled at Harry, and he found himself returning the grin happily. He was glad for a distraction, but he was even happier that it had come in the form of Ginny.

"Yeah, I finally convinced her that I can lie down just as easily in the Gryffindor Common Room as in the Hospital Wing." Harry laughed slightly at her pointed look to his standing position at the door. "She was probably glad to be rid of me though, people kept trying to sneak in to see me." It was Harry's turn to give Ginny a pointed look, causing the third year to blush slightly.

Both Harry and Ginny were oblivious to the odd stares they were receiving from Ron and Hermione, too focused on their conversation.

"Are the dreams getting any better?"

Harry was startled by Ginny's line of questioning, and he found himself looking deep into her chocolate colored eyes, full of knowing and understanding. With a painful lurch from his stomach, he realized that Ginny too had experienced horrors at the hand of Lord Voldemort. She too had seen people almost die, and she bore the needless guilt of having committed the almost murder, though through the possession of Voldemort's memories.

"I-"

"Ginny, just bugger off already!"

Harry and Ginny's heads snapped towards Ron, who now stood by Hermione, fuming at his little sister and best mate.

"It's none of your business, and Harry doesn't want to put up with this right now, he's just too nice to say anything."

Ginny's skin tone darkened several shades, though Harry wasn't sure if it was from anger or humiliation. Either way, he glanced at Ron coldly.

"Actually, it is her business. Ginny is my friend too Ron, and I like talking to her. Besides, you shouldn't talk to her like that, she's your little sister."

It was rather funny, Harry thought, watching Ron gape at him like a fish, his mouth opening and closing without really saying anything. Hermione was standing next to him, tugging on his sleeve and biting her lip.

"Since when do you two talk?" Ron demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry let out a breath of air. He knew all about Ron's jealousy issues; he had dealt with the worst of them this year, but he never would have thought that jealousy would go so far as to extend to Harry befriending his little sister.

"Since she came to visit me in the Hospital Wing." Harry responded coldly, not in the mood to get into an argument with Ron and Hermione right now. Thankfully, Hermione seemed to sense it, and she began pulling Ron towards the entrance hole.

"Ron, let's just let Harry and Ginny talk. We will talk to him later." She pulled a reluctant Ron with her, and the two disappeared, the sounds of their beginning argument reaching Harry and Ginny's ears. Though he was grateful for their disappearance, he didn't like the way Hermione had spoken to Ron as if Harry wasn't even there; the way she had told him they would talk to him later.

Trying to shove down his frustration, Harry pushed his hair back, and Ginny heaved a sigh.

"Honestly, my brother is such a prat sometimes."

"Normally I would try to defend him, but right now I have to agree with you."

Ginny smiled at Harry slightly, and shrugged.

"So do you want to talk about them? Your dreams, I mean?" She clarified, and then waited expectantly for Harry's answer.

Harry was tempted to tell her no, that he was fine, but thankful for the offer. The words were again on the tip of his tongue, but he thought better of them. The fact of the matter was he wasn't fine. He wasn't okay, and he was pretty sure everyone knew it. Ginny certainly did. And he felt a lot more comfortable talking to her than someone else, for some reason yet unknown to him. Besides, Ginny was the only other person in the castle who truly had an idea of what he was going through.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay, let's talk."

Harry immediately was happy with his decision, seeing the brilliant smile on Ginny's face. He wondered why the three of them had never bothered to include Ginny in their conversations before. She was a sensible witch, and would definitely bring some new perspective to some of their poorly thought out plans, that even Hermione failed to bring.

"Okay. Would you like to go somewhere a little more private? That was we don't risk anyone walking in on us?"

The dark haired teen bit his lip, unsure of how to proceed. It almost seemed a little weird; only a few days ago he never talked to Ginny, now they were seeking solace in privacy to have a serious discussion. It was just strange.

"Yeah, sure. What'd you have in mind?"

Ginny shot him a mischievous grin that immediately set Harry on edge, reminding him way too much of Fred and George.

"Oh I think you'll like it."

To Harry's surprise, instead of leading him out the entrance hole, she grabbed his wrist, and began pulling him towards the back corner of the Common Room, to a relatively private nook he usually didn't explore.

"I found this one night at the beginning of last year." Ginny began to explain. "I don't think even Fred and George know about it. People, they still didn't really trust me at first." Her face darkened, and Harry knew she was thinking of the events of her first year.

"Wait, were people giving you grief about that? It wasn't your fault though!" Harry cried indignantly, and Ginny smiled sweetly at him.

"It's okay Harry, most everyone got over it. The twins were watching out for me. But some nights I just liked to be alone, and so I'd come back here. One night, I accidentally found this." Harry watched curiously as she pushed the red and gold tapestry aside, revealing a blank wall.

Without saying anything more, Ginny simply walked through the wall, leaving an astonished Harry staring at the spot where she had just been.

Suddenly her head popped out again, looking extremely strange, a head attached to a wall, without a body to accompany it.

"Coming Harry?" She asked with a giggle.

Harry laughed slightly in astonished glee, and followed her through the wall.

* * *

Sirius stood in the front parlor of the expansive mansion, his legs placed slightly apart, and his hands clasped behind his back. It was a standard position of attention, and meant to show respect to the patrons who would be hosting him as a guest. He had decided to pay the Delacours a visit, and was now was waiting to be received.

It had been quite a while since he had been in a house this splendid, or truly needed to use the Ancient Customs, but it was time to start reintegrating himself back into society. He needed to do this for Harry, he needed his godson to take his rightful place in the Wizarding World. He only hoped that the Delacours might prove to be allies in his quest.

"Lord Black!"

Sirius immediately straightened his already impeccable posture as the lovely Lady Fleur descended the grand staircase, accompanied by two people that Sirius could only assume to be her parents. The High Lady Delacour was as lovely as her daughter, a tall beautiful woman with her silvery blonde hair styled elegantly on top of her head.

The Noble Lord Delacour was a short, portly man with a boyish face and delighted eyes, the wrinkles by his eyes indicating that he smiled often. Sirius immediately felt more at ease in his presence, his worries quickly dissipating.

"Lord Black, such an honor and privilege to meet the heir to the Noble and Ancient House of Black."

Sirius smiled at the beaming French wizard, and shook the man's outstretched hand. "The pleasure is all mine Lord Delacour. Thank you for welcoming me into your home."

Turning towards the man's wife, Sirius bowed slightly, kissing her hand. "And what a pleasure it is to meet the beautiful mademoiselle. I have heard many good things about you madame, and the tales of your beauty do you no justice." Sirius was nothing if not smooth. Still, she was the wife of a Noble Lord, and had been raised in a Noble family herself, so Sirius was surprised when she let forth a small giggle.

"_Echante _Lord Black. The rumors about you are clearly true also."

Sirius arched an eyebrow. "Rumors? Pray tell, what rumors have been circulating about me as of late? Surely they all must be false."

Apollina Delacour arched a silvery eyebrow. "It has been said that you could charm your way out of a den of snakes."

Sirius smirked at the woman, and bowed his head slightly in inclination. "Well I suppose that is true then. I must compliment you and your husband on your lovely daughter. She is a delightful young woman, and I hope to have the opportunity to get to know her better."

It was Clement Delacour's turn to raise his eyebrows. "Lord Black, when you say 'get to know'..."

Realizing how his statement could have been interpreted, Sirius cleared his throat, and glanced at a smirking Fleur. "Ah no, I simply meant I hope to work with her on a purely professional level. As stunning of a young woman as she is, I am far too old and unsavory for her. Besides," He winked at the pretty blonde, "I dare say she has her eye on someone else."

The Delacour family smiled at Sirius, and he returned the sentiment. Lord Delacour clasped his hands together, and returned his attention to Sirius.

"So tell me Lord Black. What must be done for the Potter heir?"

Sirius grinned. Things were finally starting to look up for Harry.


	4. Chapter 4: Of Compartments and Quidditch

As Harry Potter leaned against the window of his compartment on the scarlet steam engine taking him back to the hellhole Dumbledore claimed was his 'home', he was about ready to tear his hair out. He was currently sitting in the middle of what felt like what he had dubbed 'The Great Yule Ball Battle Part Two'.

Harry loved his friends; honestly, he did. They were the best people he knew, and he honestly thought he would have gone crazy without Ron and Hermione by his side. But sometimes...sometimes they were just too much, and he began to wonder if he might go crazy, regardless of if they were with him or not.

After his – well, he didn't want to call it a row, but he had no idea what else to label it – with the two of them, they had never really patched things up, leaving awkward silences, stilted conversations, and pitying glances thrown his way when the other two thought he wouldn't notice. It was really beginning to drive him bonkers, and their constant bickering really wasn't helping.

Harry knew what it was. Honestly he would be surprised if the whole school didn't know what it was. Maybe it had started out as innocent schoolchildren crushes, but it had evolved into something much different, much deeper. There was no denying that Ron and Hermione fancied each other in the worst of ways. And as much as Harry wanted them to just snog and get over it – well he didn't really want to think about them snogging – but he would begrudgingly admit to himself that he would rather the two bluster their way along, dragging their feet for as long as possible, than follow in the footsteps of so many other teen romances, blazing like a candle for a short moment, and then fizzling out to an awkward broken friendship.

Still, he worried that one day they were really going to do damage to each other, or their friendship.

Or him.

Closing his brilliant green eyes, he tried to focus on something, anything other than the fierce arguing of his two best friends. As soon as he did, he found his mind traveling back to his peaceful private conversation with Ginny. Almost unwittingly a smile spread across his face as he thought about it.

* * *

"What is this place?"

Harry looked around at his surroundings in awe. They seemed to be in some tiny alcove of some sort, but he couldn't figure out what the point of it was. It was a rather small space, with a large stone spiraling staircase taking up most of the room. Ginny had already settled herself on the large cushy window seat. Taking her lead, Harry sat down across from her, still looking around.

"I don't really know to be honest." Ginny admitted, delicately crossing her legs, and following his gaze towards the staircase. "I climbed the stairs when I first found this place, and it leads to a trapdoor. It's locked though, and I can't figure out how to open it. It's got some pretty powerful charms on it. Fred and George could probably figure out how to get in but," She shrugged her shoulders, and Harry picked up on her meaning, "I just felt like this was private."

Harry looked at her appreciatively, realizing what this place must mean to her, and the fact that she brought him in here meant something. He just couldn't figure out what.

The redhead blushed under the scrutiny of his gaze, and absentmindedly Harry noted that it was quite adorable. Or perhaps endearing was a better word to use. Yes, it probably was, considering her status as his best friend's little sister.

He gave himself a mental shake, and his conscience scolded his mind for thinking that. Harry had kept the youngest Weasley placed in that box for far too long, and he really shouldn't have. She had proved to him in the past day alone that she was certainly a good friend by her own merit.

Looking at her now, he realized that she might be a perfect mix of Ron and Hermione. She was gazing at him with a knowing looking her eyes, but unlike Hermione she wasn't pressing him for information. Her silent gestures of solidarity were similar to Ron's, but uniquely her own. Harry was truly beginning to realize how valuable of a friend Ginny really was.

"Thanks." He finally broke the silence, and flushed as his voice cracked. With the stress of the Triwizard Tournament weighing heavily on his mind all year long, he hadn't really noticed that his voice was beginning to change, not to mention many things about himself.

But to his utter relief, Ginny didn't attempt to hand him a book on puberty like Hermione would have, or blush in embarrassment, or guffaw like Ron would. She simply handled it gracefully, not even paying it any mind. With a start Harry realized he seriously needed to stop comparing her to his other two friends. She was her own person after all, and she did have seven older brothers. He supposed she must be used to this sort of thing.

"I mean, thanks, for – you know, back there." He ducked his head, trying to hide the blush fighting to make itself apparent on his cheeks. It was frustrating, being so unable to articulate his thoughts, and he chalked it up to the stress of the past couple of days, and the frustration with his two best friends. "I just really didn't feel like talking, you know?"

Ginny smiled at him, a warm gesture that genuinely made him happy. "It's perfectly alright Harry. And you know I won't pressure you to talk or anything. But I know how much of a prat my brother can be at times, and much as I love her, Hermione can get a little overbearing at times. I don't think she quite realizes that a book can't teach her how to react to human emotions."

"No, no, I didn't mean I don't want to talk." Harry found that his mouth was moving without his brain really giving it the say so. "I just don't want to talk to them. At least not right now. You're much easier to talk to though."

It was Ginny's turn to blush, and she tilted her head forward some, so that her curtain of long red hair covered her face. Harry grinned and wished his own hair was a little bit longer so that he might have the same chance to avoid awkward topics.

"Well, what did you want to talk about then?"

He sighed and leaned back against the wall.

"I dunno. I can't...it's hard to explain. I just don't think Ron and Hermione would get it, you know? I don't think anyone would get it, not any students at least, except for you." _And Neville_, his mind added, though his promise to Dumbledore and respect for his friend kept him silent.

Ginny's mouth pressed together in a thin line, rather reminding Harry of her mother.

"You might be surprised." She said softly, her brown eyes wide, and a touch of sadness in them. "You're right, a lot of students wouldn't understand, death and danger have never touched them directly, or at least they don't remember it. But a lot of people lost family and loved ones in the war. Even if they themselves don't remember it, their parents, or other family members do."

It was at that moment that Harry remembered the small photograph on the wall of the Weasley house. Two boys, almost identical, easily passing for twins, smiling and waving from their framed prison, jumping on one another and laughing. The first time he had seen it he had mistaken the two for Fred and George. But after seeing Mrs. Weasley going misty eyed, looking at the picture, Mr. Weasley had once informed Harry that it was in fact, of Molly's older brothers, lost to the war.

He felt a surge of guilt in his stomach, and he looked towards Ginny in shame.

"You're right Gin, I'm sorry." He ducked his head, unable to meet her large brown eyes. "I shouldn't be so selfish, thinking I was the only one affected by what happened." He was certain that his parents would be disappointed in his self centered attitude.

"Merlin no Harry, that isn't what I meant at all!" Harry's eyes snapped up to meet Ginny's chocolate colored ones, wide with surprise and apology. "You have to be the least selfish person I know! I just meant...I just want you to know that you aren't alone. Not really. I mean, Hermione and Ron are great and all, but Hermione has never really lost anyone, and Ron...well he doesn't exactly have a lot of tact. I mean, I can't claim to have lost as much as you, or really anyone around here, but I do have some idea of what it's like." Her voice darkened, and all of a sudden seemed very small and childlike. "I know what it's like to feel like you're losing yourself, like your own innocence is dying. Mum told me that was what it was like for her, when she first really understood death."

Harry was not good with feelings, nor girls, and he was certainly rubbish at comforting girls, if Hermione was anything to go by, but it just felt natural to lean over and engulf Ginny in a warm hug. Maybe it was because she was a Weasley, and Harry knew that Weasleys were affectionate creatures, who relied on physical contact to express emotions, or maybe it was finally the Potter side of the family kicking in (though those who knew his parents would argue that it was most certainly Lily's sensitivity shining through) but for several long moments he simply sat there hugging the young girl who, like him, had been forced to grow up much too early under very dark circumstances.

Though he knew Ginny wasn't crying, he could feel her violent trembling, so much so that she was shaking his entire body. It made Harry wonder when was the last time anyone had held her like this. Though he loved Mrs. Weasley dearly, he could not help but admit that her bone crushing hugs might not be what Ginny had needed after her ordeal in the Chamber. She was clearly craving security and safety, something that she had most likely found in her father's arms. But how long had it been since she had shown anything but her fierce independence that made her so inherently a Weasley?

"Sorry." She muttered as she finally composed herself. It was Ginny's turn to glance down at her pale fingers in embarrassment. Harry shook her head, and tilted her chin upward so that they could speak face to face.

"Never." He said quietly, and with his one word, he managed to express everything that he was feeling. Harry hadn't been there for Ginny after the Chamber, and that was a mistake, one that he would have to make up for. He wanted her to know that he would always be there for her, no matter what.

Eventually the two seemed to realize what an intimate position they were in, and both of them scrambled back to their original positions on the window seat, both blushing like mad. They soon got over it though, and spent the rest of the afternoon talking away. The subject miraculously never turned to Cedric or the Tournament, or anything else Harry didn't want to talk about, thanks to Ginny's talents in the art of subtle subject changes, something she must have picked up from her father who was a crafty master at it.

Still, the knowledge that he _could_ talk about it if he needed to, and not be judged, or looked at as if he were mad, or be gazed imploringly at was remarkably relieving, and left him feeling uplifted for the rest of the day.

He went to bed that night feeling considerably better, despite the knowledge that Cedric's funeral was the next day. He knew he would make it through. He would be okay in the end.

He was just glad he had gained Ginny Weasley as a true friend.

* * *

Harry gave a start as he was prodded sharply in the side. Frowning, he fixed his glasses which had fallen askew on his face, and looked around, only to find both of his friends glaring at him pleadingly.

"Well?" Hermione demanded in her bossy tone that Harry dreaded hearing. It usually meant bad things, like homework, and lectures, and other horrible things.

"Er, sorry, what?"

"Harry! Weren't you listening?"

He shrugged. "No, sorry. I must have dozed off."

Hermione looked scandalized, and Ron looked put off, and Harry sighed inwardly. Really, did they honestly expect him to keep up with all of their fights? He would never get anything done if he went around recording them all in splendid detail!

"Harry! Please explain to Ron that you are clearly in no state to be thinking about Quidditch right now!"

Wait, when had the argument turned to him? The last Harry remembered, they had been bickering about a wide range of topics, from Viktor Krum to Crookshanks. Despite the fact that Scabbers had turned out to be an illegal Animagus who was responsible for the deaths of Harry's parents and over a dozen innocent Muggles, Ron had not let up on his vendetta on Hermione's beloved cat.

"Oh come of it Hermione! He just saw someone die, a game of Quidditch will make him feel better! You don't have to act like such a know it all, all the time! Sometimes you just don't understand!"

Though Harry couldn't really bring himself to disagree with Ron's words, it irritated him that his best mate was speaking about him like he wasn't even there. And while it was true that Harry would like nothing more than to play a game of Quidditch, the fact was he was headed back to Privet Drive for the summer holidays, against his deepest wishes, and would more than likely be stuck there for the rest of the season. Quidditch would be lost to him for three whole months, and it was this bitter, unpleasant thought that had him shooting to his feet, urged by a sudden desire to get out of the compartment and the stifling tension that was threatening to choke him.

"Harry?"

"Where are you going mate?"

The alarmed voices of his friends reached Harry's ears at the same time, and he was not blind to yet another worried glance they exchanged between them, one that clearly said they both thought he had gone off the deep end. The look only served to harden his resolve, and he scowled deeply before yanking open the door and stepping out into the corridor of the train.

"I'm going to talk to Ginny."

Offering no further explanation, he stalked away from the compartment, his ears already picking up the resumed bickering between Ron and Hermione. He let out a frustrated huff of air, and then began his mission to find his friend.

The task was easier said than done, as Harry attempted to navigate his way through the narrow corridors of the train, attempting to avoid stopping and talking to every person interested in his well being, or a hopeful looking for an accurate depiction of what had happened the night of the third task.

Eventually Harry found Ginny, though to his embarrassment, when he stepped foot in the compartment he realized that she was already surrounded by her own friends.

"Er, sorry, didn't mean to interrupt." Harry mumbled bashfully, already inching back out of the carriage. "I'll just go back to –"

"No!"

All occupants of the compartment jumped slightly, and looked at Ginny, who blushed fiercely; she hadn't intended to be so exuberant with her response, but she didn't want Harry to go.

"I just mean, it's okay, you aren't interrupting."

"Yeah mate, really it's alright."

Harry was startled to see the presence of a boy in the compartment, and he turned his gaze to a boy he knew to be in the year under him.

"Coote, isn't it?" He asked, desperately scrambling his brains for the remembered Gryffindor names. Apparently he had gotten lucky with this one, for he nodded his head with a wry grin.

"Yeah, I'm Ritchie Coote. And this is Demelza Robbins and Vicky Frobisher." Ritchie gestured to the two girls sitting by Ginny, and Harry grinned at the pair, giving them an awkward little wave. He couldn't help but blush slightly as the blonde haired girl, Vicky, giggled slightly. Ginny simply rolled her eyes, and waved to the seat across from her, and next to Ritchie.

"Go on and sit down Harry. You're welcome here any time."

He shot a genuine grin at her, and then looked around the compartment. It was easy to talk to Ginny, but he hadn't really counted on having an audience. It had been stupid of him, really. Ginny was a popular girl, from what he gathered from Ron's numerous complaints. It should come as no surprise to him that she would be surrounded by her friends. Still, an awkward sort of silence had settled over the compartment, and Harry had no idea what to do, other than to scratch his nose in embarrassment, and from a lack of nothing else to do.

"So...you're on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, right?"

Surprisingly it was Demelza who had spoken first. Harry had pegged the girl for the shy and quiet type, but obviously he had misjudged her. She was gazing at him through a long curtain of eyelashes, her eyes so dark they were almost black, though considerably warmer than the bottomless pits Snape had in the middle of his head. Harry could practically see a hint of mischief and excitement in her eyes, and he couldn't deny that the prospect of a kindred Quidditch fan excited him.

"Yeah, I am. That was one of the worst things about this year, no Qudditch."

"Well you did a fair bit of flying during the First Task. Even Viktor Krum was talking about how good you were."

Harry detected plenty of admiration in Ritchie's voice, but for once it didn't bother him. For one, he could tell that there was no hero-worship in his tone of voice, just genuine praise. But perhaps the most important thing was that Harry was being praised for something that was really his own. Someone wasn't congratulating him for killing a basilisk, and ignoring him when he said he had loads of help. He wasn't being patted on the back for getting through the Professors' traps during First Year, when he would have been eaten by Fluffy if Ron and Hermione hadn't been there. Quidditch was in his blood, but he had spent years honing and perfecting his skills, and so to have his hard work admired, well it just felt good.

"Well thanks. I love flying. So does that mean you fly?" Harry directed the question towards Demelza, but he was surprised when the entire compartment responded in a chorus.

"We all do."

Almost immediately Harry turned his surprised gaze on Ginny, and once again she blushed under his scrutiny, but jutted out her chin slightly in a defensive manner, almost as if her pride was at stake.

"I've been sneaking into our broom cupboard at night for the past seven years, and practicing on my brothers' brooms. And when we're at school, sometimes Ritchie or Mel will let me have a go on theirs." She suddenly bit her lip, and looked at Harry pleadingly. "Please don't tell Ron. Fred and George are the only ones who know."

Harry held her gaze, and tried to convey his sincerity in his words. "Don't worry Ginny, I won't. I know how important flying is to me, and how important it must be you. Ron's my best mate, but he would try and take that away from you."

Ginny shot him a relieved glance, and visibly relaxed. Harry glanced around the rest of the compartment, not recalling seeing any of their faces at tryouts.

Come to think of it, he couldn't really remember ever having tryouts.

"Well why haven't any of you gone out for the team then?" Harry asked in confusion. The way their eyes had lit up, he could tell that they all loved flying. Sure, passion didn't necessarily replace all raw talent, but Harry had the feeling that they could at least be on the reserves if they really worked at it.

Come to think of it, he didn't even think they had a reserve team.

He saw the four third years exchange a glance, and he frowned in confusion. "What?"

"Well, there haven't been tryouts." Harry's frowned deepened at Vicky's words.

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon Harry, do you ever remember seeing a tryouts sheet posted in the Common Room?" He scratched his neck, not really wanting to answer Ginny's question. "Wood was a great Captain and all, but he's old school. Like, last century old school. He had his team, and he never thought to change it. The only reason he even let you onto the team was because you were so bloody brilliant. He learned from the Captain before him. Did you know the year before you came to Hogwarts, Gryffindor didn't even have a Seeker?"

Harry's jaw flapped open in surprise. No Seeker? How was that even possible? Not to sound self-centered, but the Seeker was the whole point of the game!

Ginny shot him a wry grin, seeing his expression. "Exactly. He didn't want to mess with the team dynamics, see. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's a good theory, but it's flawed. There's always someone better out there, and you never know who could outperform your best player. That's why the Holyhead Harpies do so well, they're constantly replacing members, and forcing their starting players to be fiercely competitive."

"Oh not you and your bloody Harpies again." Ritchie groaned, though Harry detected some amusement in his voice. "I swear, if I have to hear one more statistic about them or Gwenog Jones, you're going to drive me mad."

Harry grinned, seeing that Ginny's eyes had taken the same sort of light that Ron's did when he began talking about the Chudley Canons. However Harry felt that it looked much nicer and less maniacal in Ginny's soft brown eyes than Ron's bright sapphire colored ones.

It also helped that the Holyhead Harpies were actually a good team.

"Shut it you." Ginny said pulling out her wand and waving it around his face teasingly. "I'm going to play for them someday. I even have a name starting with a 'G'!"

Harry tilted his head in confusion. "What has that got to do with anything? And isn't Ginny short for Virginia? Or is your given name Ginny?"

"All the Holyhead Harpies are girls, and all of them have names that start with 'G'." Demelza explained to him patiently. "The first is a requirement, and the second is just a coincidence, though my father says it's quite amusing, and they do tend to pay a smidgen more attention to those with 'G' names." Seeing Harry's confused glance, she smiled kindly at him. "My papa is a Quidditch trainer."

"Wicked!" He said, glancing at her in newfound admiration.

"Yep, it's one of the reasons why she's one of my best friends. Demelza has the connections, Vicky keeps us all doing our homework, and Ritchie sort of just lags around like some lost puppy that we feel sorry for."

Ritchie narrowed his eyes at her, and crossed his arms over his chest, arching a cool eyebrow, and reminding Harry horribly of Snape.

"Oh yeah? Why don't you go ahead and tell Harry what Ginny is really short for?"

Immediately Ginny's mouth clamped shut, and a red flush began to spread around her cheeks again. But now she had peaked Harry's interest, and when he wanted to know something, it was the one and only time he would equate himself to Aunt Marge's bulldogs.

"What's it short for Ginny?"

Nothing.

"Ginnnnny."

Still nothing.

Narrowing his green eyes at her, Harry decided to switch tactics.

"May I remind you, the last time I set my mind to figuring something out, I discovered the Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, and figured out the three tasks? Not to mention all the other secrets I found out along the way. So if I have to go digging to get your real name, well who knows what else I might find? Especially if I ask Fred and George?"

There was a general 'ooh' around the compartment, and Ginny went at least three shades paler. She leveled a death glare at Harry, and if it wasn't for his pride on the line, he would have probably been shaking right about now.

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

The staring match went on for at least another minute, before Ginny finally caved and sighed heavily.

"Fine, you might as well know. I'm sure my Mum will be yelling it at the top of her lungs at some point this summer anyways. If you absolutely must know, it's short for Ginevra."

Harry hadn't been expecting that. He didn't really know what he had been expecting, to be quite honest. How many names could come with the variation of 'Ginny'? And he had to admit, that on anyone else he would have thought the name quite funny, and sniggered privately to himself. But it wasn't just anyone else, it was Ginny.

"It suits you." He told her honestly. "No really, it does!" He added, seeing her skeptical look from red tinted cheeks. "I mean, Ginny suits you much better obviously, but there aren't many people who could make that name seem alright."

Vicky Frosbisher snorted from behind her magazine, _Simply Charmed_, and Harry had the feeling that he had probably stuck his foot in it. Again.

"Well thanks. I think. But really, I don't know what my mum was thinking. I mean, everyone has normal names in my family. The oddest one is Bilius, and that's only Ron's middle name! But then for some reason she goes and gives me a normal middle name, and a travesty for my first. Honestly, I think all the kids eventually got to her."

Harry grinned, and shook his head in amusement, and then decided it was high time to direct the conversation back to Qudditch, as it was his favorite subject, and seemed to be the same for all members of the compartment.

"So are you lot going to tryout next year then?"

Once again, a look was exchanged amongst the four of them.

"Probably not." Ginny said, looking at the ground rather dejected. "The only spot opening up next year is Keeper, and I play Chaser. Sometimes Seeker, but I seriously doubt Gryffindor will be looking for a new one next year."

"Yeah, and I play Beater. Even I'm not mental enough to go up against Fred and George." Ritchie added from next to Harry. "I mean, I disagreed with Wood's policies on tryouts and all, but I can't blame him for not replacing Ginny's brothers. You can't really beat twin telepathy. That's pretty valuable, especially in Quidditch."

He did have a point, and it was one to think about.

"Demelza is a Chaser too, but I might try out next year." Vicky said from behind her magazine. "I play Keeper and I can be a fairly decent Chaser, but I'm not sure if I'm up for the commitment. I'm President of the Gobstone Club, and I might be up for the presidency in Charms Club, and those would just have to take priority over Quidditch."

She shrugged, and Harry moved his shoulders with her's.

"Yeah, Quidditch is a pretty big commitment, but maybe you could be on the reserves? You probably wouldn't be required to go to all of the practices in that case."

"Does Gryffindor even have a reserve team?" Ginny asked him skeptically.

"I don't think so, but I'll suggest it to Angelina next year. She's certain to get the Captaincy, and I bet she'll see the sense in it. Especially the amount of times I've landed myself in the Hospital Wing. Really, they shouldn't be leaving the most important job in the game to the most accident prone member of the school."

He was met with four set of raised eyebrows, and once again they chorused in unison, causing Harry to laugh.

"Accident prone?"

Time was flying by so quickly that he didn't even realize how close to approaching King's Cross Station. And honestly, even if he had, he probably wouldn't have cared. He was flying far too high to be grounded by the thought of his aunt and uncle, and the whole summer he would have to spend with them.

It felt good to be this free.

* * *

**A/N: So I managed to update sooner than I was planning. The next update might be a little slower, as I'll also be working on the next installment of my next-gen story, a Marauder era prequel to this story, and an AU. I do plan on updating either before or shortly after Christmas though, but if I do not manage to make this self imposed deadline, I hope you will all forgive me in holiday spirit and joy.**

**To the anonymous guest who asked the question pertaining to Fleur and Dumbledore: Though Dumbledore did try not to show favoritism in public, he was not necessarily always discreet about his interest in Harry. I have chosen to write Fleur as being a little sharper than one might assume from canon - though it was certainly implied in the sixth book - and in my headcanon, during the Tournament the Champions from the other schools were constantly on the lookout, watching the other Champions and their respective mentors. It was established in canon that Fleur had at least chatted with Cedric at times, and surely she would have noticed that he seemed to have no mentor - aside from perhaps Pomona Sprout, while Harry had both Barty Crouch Jr. and Dumbledore watching him carefully in their own ways. In my head it makes sense that Fleur was more observant than the other champions, who relied on strength or skill almost one hundred percent of the time (or dumb luck in Harry's case at times), and so she noticed that Dumbledore's fixation on Harry ran deeper than simply a mentor-student relationship.**


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